


where i leave my hurt behind

by Sway



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-Season/Series Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 04:24:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10550014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sway/pseuds/Sway
Summary: Maybe it’s the late (or early) hour, maybe it’s the amount of alcohol Harvey’s already consumed but Mike is not making any sense to him. When he tells him so, Mike scoffs.“We finally - fucking finally - get this done without any one of us going to jail… you give me a handshake!?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Even before I actually saw the episode I knew I had to write a bit of fix-it. 
> 
> As always, my biggest thanks go out of Aqua for her constant cheerleading and encourangement. This fic literally would not be here without her kicking my butt into gear. And without her pointing out the things I can't spell. Once again, thank you much, dear! <3
> 
> The title is from "alone I break" by KORN.

By now, Harvey should have gotten used to these late night visits. 

For the past - how long have they known each other? - years, it’s become something close to a habit. An unwelcome one at first, then somehow semi-okay, then actually kind of nice. Then there had been those occasions that included yelling, even open-handed fighting, and then more yelling. The last visit had been a nicer one, even though Mike asking him to be his Best Man (again) had left a bit of a foul taste in Harvey’s mouth. Not that he’d admit to any of that. Ever.

Now that Mike’s in the Bar, Jessica is back on a plane and Harvey’s catching himself contemplating on which wall in his new office he might hang the image his mother’s painting, there’s another knock on the door.

When Harvey gets up from the couch he feels how many drinks he’s already had tonight. He sways just a little bit as he walks to the door.

“What are you doing here?” 

“Oh good, we’re doing cliché questions. I see yours and I’ll raise you a ‘I could ask you the same thing’.”

“Mike, it’s been a long day and it’s way too late for fratboy humor.”

“Aren’t you going to ask me in, old man?”

Harvey doesn’t. He just steps aside and lets Mike saunter into his apartment. “Shouldn’t you be celebrating your success someplace else?”

Mike doesn't reply immediately. Instead, he walks straight to Harvey’s bar cart and pours himself a drinks. He doesn’t stint either.

“You know, there’s two things wrong with that sentence,” he says around an unseemly big gulp from the glass. “First of all… _our_ success-” he gestures between them with that ‘you’re an idiot’-expression Harvey himself uses repeatedly “-and second… I don’t think I should be.”

Harvey frowns at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“What it means is…-” Mike downs the rest of his drink and winces as it does down “- a handshake, Harvey? A goddamn handshake?”

“Are you very high?”

“I wish I was. ‘Cause maybe I would understand then.”

Maybe it’s the late (or early) hour, maybe it’s the amount of alcohol Harvey’s already consumed but Mike is not making any sense to him. When he tells him so, Mike scoffs.

“The day you took me up to Danbury you just stood there and watched me walk through that gate. The day you got me out you shook my hand like you’d just sold me a rundown Toyota. And just now you almost literally put everything you are on the line to get me into the goddamn Bar.” The more he goes on, the more Mike talks himself into a bit of a rage. “And when we finally - fucking finally - get this done without any one of us going to jail… you give me a handshake!?” 

“What do you want from me, Mike?” Harvey tries to go for irritated but somehow his attempt falls flat. Something in Mike’s words makes his skin crawl and he needs to bring a little more distance between them.

“I want you to give me a hug like a grown goddamn man,” Mike all but snaps, something close to anger blazing in his eyes.

Harvey can’t help the little laugh that escapes him. He knows he shouldn’t, and honestly, he doesn’t feel it either but it’s just too much. “That’s why you’re pissed? Because I didn’t hug you?”

“Are you making fun of me?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Then why won’t you do it?”

“Because I can’t…”

“Why? Because it’ll put a scratch in your ego?”

“...let you go.”

“What?”

They’ve been talking over each other like they do in bad movies but now Mike stops in his tracks, looking just as confused as Harvey feels.

“Mike, please…” Harvey turns away from him, the look on the other man’s face too much. He doesn’t continue right away. Instead he pours himself another drink but doesn’t touch it yet.

“The last time I hugged you, you handed in your letter of resignation,” he says at last, cringing at his own words and how lame he’s able to make them sound. “And then I watched you walk away.” 

Now he does take a sip. Of course, Mike takes that chance to say something but Harvey won’t let him get more than “Harvey…” in.

“For months I was convinced that the day I took you to Danbury was the best and the worst day of my life.” Something inside him tries to hold back the words, to just make himself stop talking but it’s too late now. “You wouldn’t get married but you would go to prison. So I just couldn’t give you a hug and then let you walk away. Again. And on the day you got out…”

“... it was the other way around,” Mike interjects.

Now Harvey does look up and the expression on Mike’s face all but startles him. Harvey has half-expected Mike to be angry or at least confused but he almost looks disappointed, his eyes shining very blue with tears that aren’t quite there yet. 

“And when you got that phone call just then… that was the same, too?” Mike asks in a surprisingly hard tone.

Slowly, Harvey nods.

Throwing his hands up in frustration, Mike scoffs. “Goddamn it, Harvey. You really pick the worst situations to be a selfish bastard.”

“Excuse me?” Harvey takes a step towards him, hand tightening around his glass.

“You think this is just between you and yourself, don’t you? Like this doesn’t even concern me. But here’s some news for you.” Whatever disappointment Mike has felt just seconds ago, it’s being replaced by anger in rapid succession. “I’m in this, too.”

“You’re getting married, Mike.” The words are out before Harvey can stop them. 

“What if I wasn’t?”

“That’s not funny.”

“And I’m not laughing. I spoke to Jessica. Before I came to your office. She told me about how you called her.”

“My last resort. I didn’t know what else…”

“You made a deal with Gibbs, Harvey. You agreed to getting disbarred for this.” Mike pauses for a second. “For me.” 

“That doesn’t…”

“You did everything for me. Except that one thing.”

Although he doesn’t quite feel it, there’s a smile inching onto Harvey’s face. “Giving you a hug.”

“So here’s what’s going to happen now. I’m going to come over there and you’re not going to pull some evasive bullshit and you’re going to give me the goddamn hug you and I deserve. Because I’m not going to go away this time.”

Harvey doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even dare to move in case he might burst this bubble after all.

Slowly, Mike’s arms circle around him, one around his waist, the other around his shoulders. He lets Harvey do the rest, lets him take that last half step forward to reciprocate the embrace.

Mike feels warm. So incredibly warm. He’s soft where their bodies touch, the fabric of his suit giving him a slight sturdier edges. Harvey holds on to them as his body slowly starts to relax. Skirting a panic attack for days on end is finally taking its toll on him. 

A shiver rolls down Harvey’s spine when he breathes in Mike’s scent. Cologne, starch, hair gel, the tiniest hint of sweat. It’s suddenly so present to his senses that he can’t help the low moan that escapes him against the crook of Mike’s neck.

As his arms tighten around Mike some more rational part of Harvey realizes that he might have needed this even more than Mike. For the past weeks if not months he’s been through hell and high water, and for the most part it’s been a lonely battle.

Harvey stays true to his word. He can’t let go of Mike. He makes an attempt which fails miserably when he just can’t will his arms to disentangle themselves from around Mike. So he stays like that until he isn’t quite sure where he ends and where Mike begins. He stays in that warmth that starts to seep into his bones, making him feel how the exhaustion is finally catching up with him.

It’s Mike who moves first. It’s a only a slight shift in his shoulders, a little twist of his hips.

“Don’t.” It comes as barely more than a hot breath against Mike’s neck. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” There is a touch of amusement in Mike’s voice. “I’d just really like to kiss you right now.”

“I think I deserve that.” The skin at the back of Harvey’s neck crawls with anticipation. He pulls back a little but still not enough to look at Mike. “Almost getting disbarred for you and all.”

“Dickhead.”

“Rookie.”

Mike tastes the way he smells. Warm, soft, the faintest touch of scotch on his lips and tongue.

It’s over before it starts and it leaves Harvey a little dizzy. Gladly he holds on to Mike just a little bit longer.

“We should go to bed,” Mike says when he steps back at last.

Heat rolls all through Harvey’s body but he tries to play it cool. “You’re quick off your mark.”

“To sleep,” Mike corrects and for a second, there’s a flash in his eyes that matches the feeling in the pit of Harvey’s stomach. “When’s the last time you slept? And I mean actual sleep in your bed, not just a nap in your office.”

Harvey doesn’t answer because he honestly doesn’t remember. “Are you staying?” he asks instead, and his voice wavers just a little.

Mike shrugs, his gaze flitting from Harvey to the door to the bedroom and back to Harvey. Then his mouth curls into a grin. “Like I said… I’m not going anywhere.”


End file.
